One Wintery Night....

Charcoal is hope for poor Spending chilling nights in pipe Without a blanket to warm Or a woolen to sustain. Charcoal smoulder after abandoning The gray smoke making all suffocating Now settled with dull ash covering But keeping temperature balancing. Charcoal like the staff of shepherd Comfort them in chilly breeze absurd Until it dons sun's pleasure guard Blooming like a flower, the humble steward. Charcoal the my true solace As the wintery night pace I know now, life is a grace For which I should race. Charcoal under ash jacket Even though no flame rocket Smouldering within pocket Serving unto last breath, docket.